


Black Horizons

by winter_scldier



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Depression, Gen, Murder, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_scldier/pseuds/winter_scldier
Summary: "And he looked back at the black horizon, with no remorse for the people he had killed. With his bloodied blade in hand, he slit the throat of his final enemy, his final target. As the body fell, and blood pooled from the open wound, he realized what path he had walked. How many people he hurt. And he cried."





	

I remember it all so clearly. I let my past get the best of me again, and so many people had to pay. I don't know why the sane part of me let the damaged part bring a gun to a crowded shopping center. I don't know why I let myself open fire on a crowd of people just trying to buy food for their families. I don't know why I didn't surrender right there. I came home and begged Steve to hide me. I made a promise to him that it would never happen again, that no one else would die by my hands. And he believed me. I, believed me. 

We hid for months and months underground, until the authorities stopped looking for me. We moved across the country, we tried to start a new life. But I open fired in a gas station, and killed five people. We moved again, and in an attempt to get me help, I killed three people. Including the therapist that was trying to help me. 

We fled the country. But even that didn't work. I fell into a bad state of PTSD, and I stabbed Steve in the chest. He survived, but he locked me in the basement of the house we were sharing. He told me he would let me out once I got better. He said it would be okay, as long as I promised to stop hurting people. 

I stayed in that basement for threee months. I would punch the concrete walls until my knuckles bled, or the stone cracked and fell. I knew it was all my fault, but Steve should've turned me over to the police. He shouldn't have believed me all those times I promised I would stop. It was only going to hurt him.


End file.
